


mixups

by Assassin_J



Category: Assassin's Creed, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, [PROTOTYPE], inFAMOUS: Second Son
Genre: Confusion, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mixed POV, Not canon to anything else I've written, Not strictly linear story, Shenanigans, Shit Gets Meta, au: all my fanfics fused together, because quantum, desmond miles fukkin hopping between dimensions again, more tags later if i write more chapters, semi-serious crack, some mpreg, this is kind of stupid I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-05-24 21:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6166738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assassin_J/pseuds/Assassin_J
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>so I’ve been wanting for a while to write something where the various Desmonds that appear in my different fanfics swap places with each other and are incredibly confused</p><p>now also featuring Desmonds from other authors! join the party y'all</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pre- _Rendezvous_ Desmond in a post- _Replication_ world
> 
>  _Rendezvouplication_ , if you will

Desmond shifted in bed.

In more ways than one, though he didn't know this at first.

No, at first it was just a normal awakening for him: ceiling fan on low gently cooling his face as sounds of New York traffic filtered through the wall of his apartment.

Then he felt someone's hand on his stomach, trailing down into his boxers.

"Mmm." He smiled sleepily. "Awful early for you to be getting naughty with me, isn't it, Lexie?"

The hand paused. "Lexie?" a voice asked. "That's a new one." The voice was deep, husky, bemused.

Desmond didn't know this voice. His eyes shot open to the sight of someone he'd never _ever_ seen before, much less given the okay to touch him like this. Panicked, he scooted away from the stranger. "What the fuck? Who are you?" he demanded, pulling the bedsheet over his body.

The stranger's soft blue eyes went from seductive slits to wide-open before narrowing again, this time in consternation. "Desmond," he said sternly.

"Don't gimme that! _I'm_ Desmond!"

The stranger gave a growly, frustrated sigh, then ran a hand through his dark dark hair, such a contrast against his pale pale skin. "I'm Alex. Your _husband._ "

"Husband? What the fuck, I'm not married! Especially not to whoever the fuck you are!"

The stranger darted a hand out, taking hold of Desmond's wrist.

Desmond tried to pull away but this "Alex" was stronger than he looked. "Let go'a'me, you freak!"

At this last word, Alex ground his jaw. "I'll let that slide for now, since you're not in your right mind." Desmond was about to contest this, but Alex pulled his hand up in front of his face. "See that ring you're wearing?"

He did see it, some kind of tangled gothic black metal, though he sure as fuck didn't remember ever seeing it before.

"I gave it to you. Try to remember." Alex moved his hand fluidly, entwining their fingers together. Desmond saw now the stranger wore another ring, a different style. "Valentine's 2014."

"Twenty-fourteen?" Desmond gripped the sheets tighter in his free hand. "What the fuck?" he asked again, voice quieter now. He'd gotten wasted before, but he'd never blacked out so bad he'd lost whole goddamn _years_.

"Yes, Desmond, love." Alex's words were honey-rich with concern. "It's August now. Six months ago, we were married. Four months ago, our _child_ was born."

"Our child?"

Alex opened his mouth, but a thin, high-pitched cry came before he could say anything. He sighed again and released Desmond's hand. "Speak of the devil." Frozen in utter puzzlement, Desmond watched the strange man get up from the bed and lift a baby from a crib across the room. "Hey, you. Shh. Shh."

Desmond was starting to calm down a little now. This guy sure wasn't acting like a kidnapper or anything, so this was clearly just some whacked-out dream. Any minute now his alarm would go off and he'd be awake for real.

"Shh." Alex turned around and smiled as he rocked the baby gently, and damn he had a nice smile. "Maybe seeing you will bring Daddy back from this Bleeding Effect."

"Bleeding whuh?" Though really, Desmond wondered, why expect an answer from a dream?

Alex came and sat on the edge of the bed. "You're Desmond, you said. How you remember your name and not anything else is beyond me. But look." He lifted his arms to display the baby.

Desmond leaned in for a closer look. The baby, who had calmed by now, did indeed look like a mix of himself and Alex. A few wisps of dark hair graced the top of their head, and their tiny shirt proclaimed in rainbow letters "I ♥ My Daddies". "Aww. What's their name?"

Alex frowned. "Deon. You came up with that name yourself. No, with help from Shaun actually."

Desmond looked up at the stranger again. Maybe this cutie was his subconscious mind's way of reminding him he was bi. "And who's Shaun?" he asked, calmly, unhurriedly.

"Shaun _Hastings_ ," Alex said, his frustration growing more evident. "One of your fellow _Assassins_."

Desmond's heart jolted. This dream wasn't all domestic bliss, it seemed. His subconscious was also trying to remind him of the things he'd left behind. "I- I don't wanna talk about Assassins. Or even think about 'em. I like my life here, in New York, with Lexie."

Alex's face quirked. "Who's Lexie? You said that name before, too."

Desmond almost laughed. "My girlfriend."

At this, Alex looked like he'd been given an electric shock to the gut. He nearly lost his hold on baby Deon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so if rendezvousmond is in replicationverse, where'd replicationmond go? let's find out....

"Daddy, Daddy, wake up!"

Desmond groaned, turning over in the warm cocoon of his blankets. "Daddy doesn' wanna wake up yet."

"But there's waffles, Daddy! Cimmon waffles!"

Desmond's stomach rumbled. "Urg, okay, fine." He sat up, bleary-eyed, and rubbed his face. "Yeah, I could go for some cinnamon waffles. Did Alex make 'em?"

"Becca made 'em. Who's Alex?"

Desmond yawned wide before answering, "Alex, 'Dad', you know. We've been over this before, haven't we?" Then he blinked and squinted at the little boy who'd awoken him. "Wait a minute. You're... you're disguised?"

"Uhh?"

Grinning, Desmond waved a hand up and down Deon's body. "Your hair, your face, your _everything_. Completely different."

The boy shook his head, brushed some oak-brown hair behind his ear. "No, I'm the same as I was before."

"Yeah, you're the same person obviously, but you changed how you look. Figured out how to do it without consuming someone, huh? Smart kid."

Deon's new and different face was frowning in confusion. "What's consuming?"

"It's... what your Dad does." Desmond was beginning to feel unsettled. "You know, when he, uh, absorbs a bad guy, sucks 'em in with the tendrils, because he doesn't have a stomach, remember?"

"Uhh?"

"Hello, earth to Deon? Because he's a virus and doesn't eat like humans? This is kind of basic stuff here."

"Virus?" the boy asked, taking a subtle step backwards.

Desmond got out of bed and crouched down before the boy. "Deon," he said again, reaching out to his shoulder. "Are you feeling all right?"

The boy stiffened at the touch. "M-my name's Andrew, not Deon."

"Wait, what?" Desmond pulled back his hand, and at that moment suddenly noticed the unfamiliar room they were in, the single-person bed he'd just gotten up from. "Holy- this isn't our den! How did I get here?"

The boy looked frightened now. "This _is_ our den, Daddy. We live here."

Desmond rushed to the window and looked out. Instead of a third-story view out onto northeast Manhattan, he saw a small grassy courtyard, a garden patch, and beyond that, myriad densely-packed trees. "What the? How?" He turned back to the boy. "Where's Alex?"

"I don't know any Alex."

Desmond rubbed his head. _Shit._ As a precaution, he flicked into Eagle Vision briefly, and noted the boy's glittery blue aura. "Okay, De- uh- Andrew. We _are_ in a den, you said? Who's the head Assassin here?"

"Grampa Bill," Andrew said slowly, like he wasn't sure if it was a trick question.

"Uhh?" Now it was Desmond making the noise of confusion. "Really? The head of this den's named Bill, too?" It wasn't like the names Bill or William were uncommon, but still, it was another stroke of weirdness about this situation. He found some clothes in his preferred size and style in the dresser and put them on. "Okay, let's go see this Bill. Maybe he can help me figure out what's going on."

 

* * *

 

Alex blinked at him. "Girlfriend?"

Desmond chuckled and nodded.

"Did you... have sex with this girlfriend?"

"Uh, yeah." For a manifestation of his subconscious, this "Alex" guy seemed to know astoundingly little about him.

And this aspect was compounded with his next comment. "But you're _gay_."

Desmond actually laughed out loud. "When have I ever, _ever_ , called myself gay?"

"Only _all the time_." Trembling, Alex pushed Deon into Desmond's arms. "I... I thought I knew you, Des."

Desmond was flustered by the situation and also by unexpectedly having to hold the baby. "Hey, I may not be super duper out as bi to everyone I meet, but you should know my orientation pretty spot-on, since you're basically me."

Alex blinked again. "Excuse me? I'm you?"

"Aren't you?"

A slow and sickening smile grew on Alex's face. "Oh, Desmond." He stood up and spread his arms dramatically. "Your mind must be really gone if you've forgotten how very, _very_ different we are."

Desmond's jaw dropped as something black and menacing spread inward from the tips of Alex's fingers, over his hands, up his arms, even swallowing up the loose tanktop and shorts he was wearing, until his entire body was covered in a hard-looking shell of darkness with pointy edges on every joint. "Holy shit." He hugged the baby tighter. "This dream is getting really weird, man."

"Dream?" Alex echoed, and Desmond cringed a little watching his alien mouth form words. "You think this is a dream?"

Desmond swallowed. "Well, it's kinda turning into a nightmare now."

In the next second Alex returned to humanoid form, dropping his arms back down. The smile was gone, and instead he looked rueful. "You're not asleep, Desmond."

Desmond's heart started to race. "Then what the hell is going on?"

Alex rubbed his head again. "I don't know. This doesn't match the standard manifestation of the Bleeding Effect."

"I don't even know what that is?"

"Neurological dysfunction. Caused by excessive Animus use." Alex took Deon gently, stroked his hair and laid him back in the crib.

"And 'Animus' is?"

Alex sat back down next to Desmond. "Forgot that too, huh?" He reached out to take Desmond's hand.

But Desmond automatically pulled his hand out of range. "Yeah, I guess I forgot it, if I ever knew it in the first place," he said bitterly.

"You remember the Assassins, though."

"Uh." Desmond briefly wondered if it was wise to reveal this sort of stuff to a stranger. "I dunno."

"The Assassin _Brotherhood_?" Alex prompted, giving the last word a meaningful weight. "The Assassin's _Creed_? Nothing is true, and-"

"Everything's permitted, yeah, yeah." Desmond waved the tiresome words away.

Alex smiled softly. "What else do you remember?"

Desmond sighed and rubbed the weird ring on his finger. "I remember getting home from work, showering, and hitting the hay. Next thing I know, I wake up to some mutant trying to touch my dick, and then he tells me it's two years in the future and we're gay married with a kid."

"Some _mutant_?" Alex repeated testily.

"Well what are you then?"

"A virus."

"Oh, because that makes _so_ much more sense."


	3. Chapter 3

Desmond followed the boy, Andrew, down the hall and into the kitchen, which was way way smaller than the cafeteria in the Manhattan den and so there was barely enough room for the half-dozen people there. Three of those people were-

"Becca? Shaun? Dad? You guys are here too?"

Shaun rolled his eyes. "Of course, Desmond, where else would we be?"

"Uh, in Manhattan? Where we live?"

"We live _here_ , Desmond," a tall blonde woman at the table said, looking at him with concern.

"And have lived here for years," a thin young man added.

"Where exactly is 'here' anyway?"

"It's Vermont, duh!" Rebecca put down a platter of waffles on the counter. "You feeling all right, Des?"

"I _feel_ fine. I just have no idea what's going on. Where's Alex and Deon? Why didn't they come with us?"

The entire room looked at him blankly.

"Y'know, Alex? My husband?" Desmond lifed his left hand to point at his ring finger. "Shit. My ring's gone!"

Another unfamiliar man, a big guy who kind of looked like a serious Kel on steroids, laughed weakly. "This is another one of your weird jokes, right, man?"

The thin man shook his head. "Last time he made a joke _this_ weird, it turned out to be true, 'member? And it ain't even April first today."

Desmond fell limply into a chair beside William, who frowned at him. "Have you been sneaking in unauthorized Animus time?"

"Haven't been in it for years, Dad! Seriously, I'm scared. This is some _Twilight Zone_ shit."

William sighed. "All right, so tell me again from the top. You live in Manhattan and have a husband- really, a _husband_?"

Desmond took a heavy breath, trying to clear his chest of emotion. "You were there, Dad. You officiated our wedding."

Rebecca coughed. "Uh... since when are you even into dudes?"

Desmond shrugged and gave her a little smile. "I only came out after Alex got pregnant, but you said you knew alre-"

"Wait wait wait," Shaun cut in, "your _husband_ got _pregnant_?"

"Some men can get pregnant," the blonde said. "We've seen that firsthand."

"So is Alex transgender, or did he get whammied with a Precursor Apple-baby too?" the thin man asked.

"Precursor what?" Desmond sputtered.

"Apple-baby. Like him." The thin man tilted his head to indicate Andrew, who was silently eating a stack of waffles, listening as the rest of them conversed.

Desmond stared anew at the boy.

"You don't remember the story behind Andrew?"

Desmond shook his head faintly. "Never saw this kid before in my life."

"Hoo boy." The big man exhaled and looked at the blonde. "Stacey, he's really messed up."

"Daddy?" Andrew's voice was shaky and sad.

"Andrew, I'm not your daddy," Desmond said, his voice trembling a little too. "I'm sorry, I mean you seem like a sweet kid, but you're not mine."

Rebecca put an arm around Andrew. "It's okay, hun, your dad's just confused right now."

"Is he sick in his brain?" Andrew asked her.

"Maybe I am. Jesus." Desmond rubbed his forehead. "Where's the medical wing in this place? I probably should get checked out."

 

* * *

 

Turned out the blonde was their doctor. And their _only_ doctor. And not even a legit MD. Desmond wondered how in the world any self-respecting Assassin den could be so crappy. He even asked her, though not in those exact words.

Stacey just shrugged. "There isn't a lot of Templar activity in rural Vermont, okay? So we don't need a huge den with a lot of Assassins."

"Why am I here, then? Why would they assign the Mentor and his Master Assassin son to some backwoods place where nothing happens?"

"You weren't assigned," she answered, making a couple notes on a clipboard. "You came here in 2013 because it was the closest den to Turin. And you stayed because you were pregnant and traveling was dangerous."

"Excuse me? _I_ was pregnant?" Desmond forced a laugh. "I dunno how thorough your exam is gonna be, but if you check, you'll find I don't have the equipment. And I'm not a shapeshifting virus like Alex, either."

"Shapeshifting virus?"

"Heh. It's complicated. Have you heard of Blacklight?"

"Hm. No." She put down the clipboard on her desk and swiveled her chair to face him. "Well, you can tell me all about it after I finish the exam. Let's start with a mental status check. Do you know your name?"

"Desmond, obviously."

"Full name."

He rolled his eyes. "Desmond Francis Mercer-Miles."

Stacey paused a couple beats, seemingly thrown by his answer.

"What? Am I wrong?"

"Not Desmond Nicholas Miles?"

He smirked. "Nicholas, oh, that's a nice one. I wish that was my middle name, but no. And we hyphenated after marriage."

"All right... Do you know where we are right now?"

"Vermont, apparently."

"Do you know the date?"

"Uhh. August something, twenty-fifteen."

"It's July eleventh, twenty- _seventeen_."

Desmond couldn't muster any response other than a blank stare.

"I don't think you're our Desmond," Stacey said slowly.

 

* * *

 

"You're not my Desmond."

"Just now figuring that out, huh?"

Alex was staring, twitchy-eyed, at Desmond's right arm. "You're a Desmond that didn't activate the Eye."

"The what?"

"The Eye, the artifact in the Grand Temple. It burned you." Alex stroked the skin cautiously. "No, not you. It burned _my_ Desmond. The gay Desmond. The Desmond that gave me his love, the Desmond that made me a father." His voice was breaking up. "My Desmond. Where is my Desmond?"

Desmond, _this_ Desmond, felt uncomfortable. "I don't know, man."

Alex hung his head. "Desmond," he said again, hoarse and heavy. "We have to get him back."

 

* * *

 

"Don't forget to put up the milk when you're through, D."

"What did you call me?"

"...D."

"That's not my name."

"Ohh, did you pick a new one? Let's hear it."

"It's the same one it's always been, Mom."

"....Denise?"

"What? No. It's 'Mona'. Y'know, short for the stupid-ass 'Desdemona'?"

"Watch your language, son."

"Excuse me? _Son_?! Geez, Dad, that's a new low even for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea where this is going, sorry.


	4. the one with shirtless shaun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kryptokos!des in skyrim and progeny!des in paradigm

"Urgh." Desmond groaned and turned over. The bed felt stiffer than usual, the sheets rougher. "Urgh," he said again, and sat up, blinking in the dimness.

The first thing he noticed was that he wasn't wearing his normal sleepwear. "Okay, that's weird." He ran a hand down the dark green robe's fabric, which strained to cover his prominent belly. "Hey there, kid," he said, voice scratchy with sleep. "You doin' all right?" There was a gentle flutter of motion in response, and Desmond smiled before looking around some more.

The room was a little drafty, and smelled odd to boot. All the furniture and decor looked like it belonged a couple centuries back in time; for example, the animal skins on the bed and the shield and crossed swords on the wall. "More bizarre preggo dreams, huh? Welp, might as well roll with it." With a little difficulty, Desmond got up and padded to the doorway.

"Good morning to you, Thane."

"Huh?" Desmond leaned over a stair railing to get a look at the woman who had just spoken. As his eyes adjusted to the candlelight, he saw her, sitting at a table, wearing leather and furs. "Oh. G'morning. And you are?"

The woman tilted her head. "I am Lydia. Are you feeling unwell today?"

"Oh, just a li'l tired." Desmond yawned and sniffed the air. "Hey, what's cooking? Smells good."

"A roast of goat today," the woman answered. "If you wish, I can-" She stopped midsentence, gaping at Desmond as he came down the stairs.

"Yeah? You can what?"

She stood up. "Wh- what has happened to you, my Thane?"

Desmond rubbed sleep out of his eye. "Whatt'ya mean?"

"I mean..." She coughed before making an awkward gesture at his belly. "Do not tell me you haven't noticed?"

"Oh, this?" Desmond laughed. "Nah, I'm quite aware."

The woman seemed unnerved by Desmond's casual mood. "Is this some strange new disease? Or the delayed effect of a spell, a curse?"

"It's kinda sorta a spell, yeah." Desmond shrugged and sat down. "Now where's that roast goat? Dream or no dream, me and this kiddo are both hungry as all get out."

 

* * *

 

"Where is the Piece now?" William asked.

Shaun jerked his head to indicate a strong box over by his sleeping bag. They'd put it away in there as soon as they could, wrapping it up in fabric first for the journey from the underchurch catacomb, being ever-so-careful not to touch it with their bare skin, or even look at it for more than a moment, lest its power be unleashed again.

"Finally," William said, like he'd been waiting his whole life. "Desmond's actually done some good for us after all these wasted years." He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. "Desmond," he repeated the name in a sigh. There was a moment of silence before he reopened his eyes and spoke again. "Let me see him."

"Whatt'ya need to see me for, Dad?"

Shaun, Rebecca, William, and Alexis all instantly pivoted to stare at Desmond.

He froze in the doorway, taken aback by their surprise. "Um. G'morning? Urr-ap." He burped, darting a hand over his mouth. "Sorry, sorry."

Shaun got up from his chair, fuming. "'Sorry' doesn't even **begin** to excuse what you did!"

"Dude, it's just a burp, it's not like I hurled on your sweater-vest?"

Shaun jabbed a finger in Desmond's face. "The fucking **burp** is not what I'm taking about, you bastard!"

"Woah, jeez, who pissed in your Earl Grey this morning?" Desmond looked him over. "Wait, where **is** your sweater-vest anyway?"

Flames lit in Shaun's eyes. "I fucking used it to try and stop Lucy bleeding to death!"

Desmond didn't even have time to start saying "What-" before Shaun pushed him against the wall and a blade was at his throat.

William barked out a stern "Shaun!"

"Please don't!" Alexis cried.

"Why the fuck not, eh?!" Shaun demanded. "Give me **one** good reason I shouldn't end him here and now!"

"I didn't do anything! What's this about Lu-" Desmond started to ask, but then an ill-timed wave of nausea hit him and he vomited straight onto Shaun's collar with a loud _blarrgh_.

This, at least, got the angry historian to back away. "Oh what the bloody fresh hell is this?!"

"Sorry!" Desmond said again. "I- I been sick for a while, okay? I thought it wasn't that bad, but-"

"Wasn't that bad?" Rebecca repeated incredulously. "You were in a damn **coma**!"

"Coma?!" Desmond's face twisted in confusion. "I think I'd remember that. By the way, speaking of not remembering-" he pointed at Alexis. "Who are you?"

Alexis hung her head into her lap, covering her face with her hands. "Oh, me? I'm nobody. Just your girlfriend for the past two years."

Desmond's face twisted more. "Girlfriend? But what about Alex?"

Shaun had by now torn off his shirt and tossed it away in the corner. "That **is** Alex, you complete arsehole cuntbag!"

" **That's** Alex? Alex turned into a girl?"

Rebecca made a sound that was half groan, half wry laugh. "God damn Apple really fucked with your brain."

Desmond rubbed his head, shaking it a little to try and make sense of things. "My- my brain feels fine, guys," he managed to say. "But then again, I do seem to be hallucinating or some shit. Maybe I'm wrong; maybe I'm way way sicker than I thought." He let out a short sigh. "Cross was right."

"Cross?!!" Shaun shouted. "See, I told you, Bill! I bloody fucking **told** you!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> props to [Hack_Generation](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Hack_Generation/pseuds/HackGeneration) for suggesting/allowing me to use Progeny!Desmond
> 
> #PregDesSquad2k16


	5. lydia did not sign up for this shit

"Woah." Desmond blinked at the bustling city streets filled with strange, otherworldly people.

"Why so surprised, my Thane?" Lydia asked as she bolted the door behind them.

"I never been anywhere like this before. Not in the Animus or in any of my other preggo dreams." He sniffed the air deeply, taking in the rich, real scent.

"Dreams," Lydia repeated. "Why do you keep referring to dreams today?"

"Well this clearly is a dream." Desmond waved at a gawking couple of armored passers-by.

One of them tripped and fell. "By the Nine!" the other gasped. "Is that the Dragonborn?"

Chuckling, Desmond put his hands on his belly. "He's not born yet, obviously, and I'm pretty sure he's not a dragon either, but thanks for playing."

Lydia grabbed his hand and pulled him along into a deserted alley. "We must get you to a healer, and preferably not have the entire Hold see you in this state as we make our way there."

"Yeah, okay," Desmond said, not really listening, still looking back towards the street. "D'you know what the weird stuff that guy said means?"

"The only 'weird' thing of note is your complete acceptance of your sudden gravidity."

"Look, lady-"

"Lydia."

"Okay, _Lydia_. My 'gravidity' is not 'sudden'. It's been going on for months now, obviously."

"This is news to me," Lydia replied with dry disbelief. "As far as I am aware, you are not skilled enough in Illusion to mask something such as this."

"Huh? I'm not _trying_ to mask it. Not anymore, anyway."

She sighed a long-suffering sigh. "Pray tell, when is your confinement?"

"My what now?"

She sighed again, and rubbed her forehead. "Do you know when the babe is meant to arrive?"

"Ohhh. My due date, you mean. Um, July 17."

"Pardon?"

"July 17."

Lydia stopped walking and stared at him. "What is 'July'?"

"Um. The month two months from now?"

"Month? There is no month 'July'. Two months from now is Sun's Height."

"Whaddya mean there's no month July? Of course there's a month July!"

Lydia grabbed his shoulders and leaned in. "In your old world, perhaps, but not here in Tamriel," she said quietly. "Did this spell of pregnancy also cause you to forget all knowledge of Nirn?"

Desmond was starting to sweat. "Sorry, but what the fuck is Tamriel? What the fuck is Nirn?"

Lydia clucked her tongue with exasperation. "This place, this land, this _planet_ , dear Thane." There was a touch of sarcasm on the title. "Must we go over all the basics again?"

"Uh, I guess we must."

"This... 'alternate universe', I believe you called it, is our realm Mundus."

"Alternate... universe," Desmond said slowly, his eyes jittering. "So th-this isn't a dream?"

"This is as real as anything, Desmond." Lydia used his actual name for emphasis. "You live in this realm, and have done so for the past two years."

Desmond leant back against the alley wall and pinched his arm- "Ow"- and then again, harder- " _Ow_. Oh shit." He sat down on a crate. "Shit shit shit. I'm really here. I'm really in some fuckin' medieval-ass village. Oh, ow." He grimaced and put a hand on the side of his stomach; this third "ow" was due to a strong kick. "Jesus, my kid's all stressed out about it too, hah. Oh god." He looked up at Lydia. "I'm here and I'm _pregnant_ , Lydia. That's- that's not good."

"So _now_ you are uncomfortable with this." Lydia tugged gently at his elbow. "Come along to the healer's. If they are skilled enough they should be able to both restore your memory and unburden your belly."

Desmond pulled his arm back from her grasp. "My memory's fine, dammit, and I don't want this kid 'unburdened' outta me! I just wanna get back home! I can't give birth here in fucking medieval land!"

"You cannot go home! There are still dragons roaming the skies!"

Desmond blinked. "Wait. Dragons?"

Lydia nodded sharply. "Dragons, yes. And you are the only one who can slay them. Though you may have a bit of trouble doing battle in your current condition."


	6. The Aftermath in Which Shaun Notices Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! A guest submission to the “Mixups” saga by [Hack_Generation](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Hack_Generation) a.k.a. [@egyptiandeathgod](https://tmblr.co/mKjdg7NWbrtkHeQxssaN8ng)
> 
> Posted here with permission~

Really it can get a bit confusing when several different Desmonds appear at different intervals. 

Yes I said it. It’s plural. Desmonds. Why you ask? Simple. 

Time and space is apparently a load of bullocks to a (technically alien)- all-powerful-being. 

And if one is too dumb to figure that out, a short summary suffices for it because I don’t want to get into details. It’d take a bloody long time to tell anyone everything. 

Basically. An Egyptian Precursor —ahem — Egyptian Isu (pronounced ee-soo) didn’t bother to fix things at the start of Desmond’s weird time space exchange problem. It was entertaining and then he got bored and tried to fix it again. 

Obviously that attempt crashed and burned. 

Who is this person? Anubis himself. In the flesh. Ask anyone else, that’s the truth. He DOES have a jackal head, but I’ve seen it once and once is enough. 

I’m digressing here. Let’s get to the subject at hand. I’ve (unfortunately) developed a preference for one of the Desmonds. Not the one that belongs here in this world (or timeline actually, that’s what Anubis calls it.) 

I prefer the currently pregnant one. Yes, that’s right, read it again if you have to. Get over it. 

There is two pregnant Desmonds so this is a specific preference, (there’s also one that knocked up a monster, I’m not going into that unless we all want an extreme dose of existential crisis). 

The one that is now 7 months along. The other pregnant Desmond already gave birth, brought along a screaming little snot once and I dislike it already. Who cares? Boohoo, I’ve never been good around kids anyway. 

For the life of me, I can’t remember exactly how many Desmonds there are. I don’t have the time to waste counting every one that visits. But, I do recall the reasons why I prefer a pregnant man over the original. That is to say the original that belongs here, since Anubis pointed out that he’s not the source. 

I’ve taken to calling him ‘Progeny’ it seems rude, however I am not the one who started it, Anubis gave names based on timelines to help tell the difference. As well as give the rest of the Desmonds a clue to know who I’m talking to. 

(The rather terrifying incident when every Desmond met at once is good enough cause for assigning nicknames.) 

The following account points out my cause for ‘playing favorites’ as the saying goes. 

I’ve noticed that Progeny is not loud and obnoxious despite being the same person as his counterparts. He’s laid back and quiet, a nice change to my work schedule. 

To put this bluntly, I think he’s smarter than the rest. Inquisitive in a non-annoying way. There’s a maturity that separates him from the group. 

I hope it’s not just because he’s pregnant. Hormones can do a lot of things to you. I don’t even know how long this popping up at random is going to continue. 

Progeny is also the most ‘BAMF’ of the Desmonds according to Rebecca. But I wouldn’t take much stock in that, who would? 

Progeny appears to actually take interest in my work instead of bother me. He keeps to himself most the time, is a good conversationist when appropriate. 

Because I’ve ‘warmed up’ to him, I did eventually let go of that time he threw up on my favorite sweater. It wasn’t his fault that he had no idea why he was that sick. The blame is laid on Alex-the-tentacle-monster and his separate personality. 

(Also found out the man Progeny referred to as ‘Cross’ is a captain of some anti-squad. No not Daniel Cross. The two aren’t even related. ) 

An amazing aspect of the pregnant individual I’ve come to accept, is that he is the boss in his odd relationship with a deadly virus-tentacle-monster. Said deadly monster appears to be afraid of Progeny’s wrath. 

Hell hath no fury like a pregnant man. I am sure not to piss him off. I like living thank you. No drug dipped knives for me. 

A notable difference between the Desmond that belongs here, and the rest, is that none of them have hazel eyes. None. Progeny is the only one, plus the fact that the hazel can be gold/ember when he’s particularly mad. 

I thought he was having an episode and Bleeding. Turns out he’d inherited Altaïr’s penchant for colour effects. 

Progeny isn’t what most refer to as very nervous. If needed he’ll stand up for himself or others, without being rash about it. 

Yet, William did have it coming when Progeny snapped and beat him in a fight. That’s right, William Miles the Mentor of the Brotherhood and father of Desmond, got his arse kicked by a 7month pregnant man. 

I am sorry to say that instead of the satisfaction I’d expected..... I’m bloody terrified. Progeny won’t hesitate to correct a wrong, that includes not taking any shite from people. 

Again, because I like living, I hope it’s just the hormones. 

There’s also good news. Apparently in Progeny’s timeline, the Assassins are making quite the comeback. Templars are very weak due to the combined efforts of the Brotherhood and an anonymous organization called Watch_Dogs. 

I made sure to warn Progeny that though the Templars are losing ground, they’re nasty little buggers and you never know when everything is going to collapse. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t said that, the look on his face was tired… I don’t blame him. 

Progeny has a very creative way of threatening people. Including me. We traded insults when he was on one of his ‘hormone trips’ ,I’ve never been called an arse with as much contempt that this man had. 

I’m amused to know that Progeny is annoyed by his counterparts. Welcome to my world. Population 2. Rebecca thinks it’s hilarious. 

You might ask why this Desmond is 'oh so perfect’ ? He is not flawless. As I afore mentioned, we’ve traded insults. There is two irritating aspects, his ravenous appetite, then the subsequent puke session. Would it kill him to know what sets off his stomach? And his energy levels are a problem, one moment he’s fine and ready, another he’s too weak to stand. Alex-tentacle-monster speculated that there may be more than one fetus if Progeny is drained because of his pregnancy. 

It’s getting late. I must bring this journal entry to a close before the Desmond of my world gets nosey. 

To conclude this entry. Progeny is the patient older brother in comparison to the Desmonds that act like tiny children.


	7. or rather, Chapter Zero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, narrated by Ubisoft-Canon-Desmond, is a prequel of sorts, taking place the night before they all wake up in the wrong 'verses.

Juno described to me once how First Civ scientists could look forward in time, investigate possible futures, determine which was the most probable outcome, in order to contact the correct Desmond Miles.

I didn't really grasp it at the time. Never seemed like a super relevant detail to remember, what with all the other things on my plate.

Now, though.... Well, _now_ shit was even more confusing.

Apparently those other Desmonds? The "incorrect" Desmonds?

Turns out they weren't just failed probabilities, the cards of the deck that didn't get drawn.

I know because I found myself surrounded by them in a vast misty dreamscape one night.

And they weren't "incorrect" either, at least not in their own opinion. There was a pretty intense shout-off for a few minutes as some of us tried to (loudly) explain how _he_ was the "real" one.

Or _she_. Yeah, a couple of us are girls. It's mostly guys, though. Even if some of the guys have, uh, different anatomy than your standard guy. You wouldn't know which ones from a cursory glance, except for the fact that two of them were heavily pregnant. Those two immediately gravitated to each other and started chatting, comparing notes I guess you'd say, and in the course of their conversation, a few more of them (of me? of us? shit, I don't know) joined in as well.

"You look like you're just about ready to pop, man!"

"Nah, it's just twins."

" _Just_ twins?!" blurted a younger one of us, looking horrified.

"Yeah, crazy, I know."

"Oh my god, I had twins too!" another of us exclaimed. "Nearly fucking killed me; I was _so_ scared! But I wasn't all that big, so I thought it was just one!"

Someone else held up his hand for attention. "Wait wait wait, am I the only one of us who actually had a baby with a girl? You know, the _normal_ way?"

"Well, there's me, with Becca," another doppelganger answered.

"With Becca, huh?"

He smiled fondly. "Yep. And, uh, that was also twins."

"Fucking hell," Twin-Pregnant-Desmond said. "What is it with us and twins?"

"Something in our genes, I guess," Rebecca's-Partner-Desmond shrugged. He reached into his back pocket. "Hey, who wants'ta see photos of my darling baby girls?"

Horrified-Younger-Desmond was visibly uncomfortable, and backed away, covering his ears. All this talk of pregnant men was freaking me out a bit too, to be honest.

Another bunch of us were off in a separate group, listening to the tale of one who claimed he was from a land of dragons and magic. "Well, not _from_ there," he clarified, "I'm from Earth originally, same as you guys I assume." He looked around and got nods in reply. "Yeah, well, it's been a real trip. Now I live on a planet called Nirn, in a universe called Mundus?" He looked around again, like he was waiting to see if anyone recognized those place names. This time nobody nodded. "Woah, guess I'm the only Dragonborn out of all us Desmonds then."

"What's a Dragonborn?" someone asked.

He chuckled. "Kinda a long story. Basically I, uh, have the soul of a dragon, and I can absorb other dragons' souls too."

"Riiight," someone in the crowd said.

"And I had to use that power to kill a dragon that, like, traveled through time to eat the world."

The Desmond next to me leaned over and whispered in my ear, "This is a load of barnacles."

Dragonborn-Desmond must've heard him. "Why would I make this up? I shit you not, man, I actually went to Sovngarde and back too!"

"What's Sovngarde?"

"Oh right, you guys haven't heard of... It's, uh, like Valhalla, or heaven, something like that."

"You really expect us to believe-"

"Hey, I believe it," spoke up yet another Desmond. "My boyfriend's an angel- like, literally- so I'm kinda on board with the whole afterlife deal."

Disbelieving-Desmond rolled his eyes. I smirked at him and said, "Think  _that's_ farfetched? Have you talked to the one of us who's fucking a virus?"

He pulled a face. "God, that's gross as hell."

"I'll have you know he's  _very attractive!_ " the Desmond in question fumed.

"And how the fuck do you fuck a virus? Unless you got a literally microscopic dick?"

"Well he's damn large as viruses go!"

 

* * *

 

After much discussion, it was determined the following similarities existed among us Desmonds (oh, and Desdemonas):

  * We had all been born into the Brotherhood. (Some had run away as a teen, a few hadn't. None of us, I'm proud to report, had defected to the other side. Honestly I don't know if I could stand knowing there was a Templar version of me out there.)
  * Save for the youngest one, we all had a tattoo on one arm. (The designs varied, as did the ages we got them. Some Desmonds also had a really nasty burn on the opposite arm, but they refused to discuss it with anyone unburned.)
  * We all could use Eagle Vision, to a greater or lesser extent. (One guy claimed he didn't even get it from the Animus; it just spontaneously came on during puberty. Had him really freaked out until he learned what it was and how to control it.)



Other than these three commonalities, details varied wildly. We were gay, bi, ace, straight, and undecided. We lived in Vermont, Seattle, Manhattan, Canada, Atlanta, and many places more. We were from the past, present, and future. Relative to each other's timelines, that is. I tried warning some of the past-hailing ones about Lucy etc, but that pissed off some of the other ones, who apparently were from 'verses where she didn't turn traitor. Like I said, the details varied wildly.

"Any clue where this place is?" Dating-An-Angel-Desmond asked when there was a lull in the conversation. "It looks sorta like how Clay described the afterlife."

"I have no fucking- wait, did you say _Clay_ and _afterlife_?" Gay-Manhattan-Desmond grabbed the other one's shirt collar. "Your angel boyfriend is Clay?"

"Uh, yes," he said with a little laugh.

"Since when is Clay _dead?_!" Gay-Manhattan-Desmond was quite upset by this.

A shout of "Holy shit!" sprang up from somewhere else, and I turned to see what the deal was. "Your kid is really named _Delsin_?" the shouter continued, looking wide-eyed at his conversational partner.

"Yeah I know it's kinda an odd name-"

"No, dude, this is too bizarre! My fucking _boyfriend_ is named Delsin!" He grabbed Delsin's-Father-Desmond by the shoulders. "Okay, is your kid a Conduit? Please tell me he's not a Conduit!"

"A what?"

"Does he have powers?"

"Um, well he ca-" Midsentence he winked out of being.

Delsin's-Boyfriend-Desmond was left holding empty air. "Fuck," he spat, flinging his arms angrily. "That is gonna mess with my fucking head, god _dammit_! Just the thought of being _blood-related_ to my goddamn _boyfriend_ -" But then he vanished as well.

"Um, what's going on?" Desdemona managed to ask. "Why are we poofing out?"

"Umm." I looked around. The weird fogginess around our feet was growing thicker, and my head was growing fuzzy. "I don't know. Maybe we're going back to our respective 'verses?"

This made sense to us, and we all decided to start saying our goodbyes, not knowing if we'd ever meet again.

"Take good care of Becca," I said to the one who had twins with her.

He nodded. "Of course I will, goofball. Hey, did you and your Becca ever-"

"Oh, I wanted to, but it was never the right time." I rubbed the back of my neck. "I mean, especially now, when I might die before the year's out."

"Might die?!"

I cringed. "Look, in my 'verse, there's some shit going down and..." I couldn't bear to speak anymore. It hurt too much to confront the fact that so many versions of me existed with such happy lives, while I was stuck in the waning days of a 2012 that was shaping up to end either apocalyptically or martyrically.

He touched his forehead to mine. "All the more reason to tell her now, then."

A weak smile crossed my face. "Maybe you're right."

In the end, though, seeking advice or insight was pointless, because it turned out none of us would remember this meeting when we awoke.


	8. Chapter 8

Desmond massaged his fingers into his temples. "So lemme go over this again, just so I'm sure I got it straight... You're named Alex."

"Alexis, technically," said the redhead. "Only Shaun calls me Alex."

"But you're not a virus."

"I don't get why you think I would be."

"But we _are_ dating."

"Yeah." She nervously twirled a bit of her hair. "Or we _were_ dating. Dunno how I feel about this relationship after you, um... that thing with Lucy."

Desmond made a seriously disgusted face and was unable to respond for a few seconds. "By 'thing with Lucy'... you say I _killed_ her?"

Alexis turned away and muttered, "Sure looked like it."

"I'm gonna be sick again," Desmond said, covering his mouth.

Alexis stood up. "Maybe you shouldn'a touched that Apple. That's when it all started heading downhill."

With some difficulty, Desmond fought back his nausea. "I... don't remember touching any Apple recently."

"Well you did!" she snapped back at him. "I fucking saw you do it!"

Desmond's face fell even further. He stood up to get away from Alexis and her accusations, wobbled a little but spread his feet out to keep balanced. "What if... it wasn't me?"

"It _was_ you," Shaun growled.

"What if the Apple swapped me out?"

"Swapped you out?"

Desmond leaned onto Shaun's table. "Look me in the eye and tell me it's not possible."

"What, like there's other Desmonds just as annoying as you?"

"That Apple does crazy shit, okay? What if it, like, pulled me from an alternate reality?" Desmond was going to continue talking, but William's hand on his shoulder stopped the train of thought. He turned to look at his father.

"The Apple doesn't have those capabilities," William said flatly.

Desmond shook his head obstinately. "Maybe some other Piece of Eden did it then! Or maybe frickin' Juno or Minerva or some other one of 'em!"

Rebecca stepped over, her arms crossed. "So your excuse for killing my girlfriend is 'it wasn't me, it was another Desmond and we've been switched by the First Civvies.' Yeah, I'm gonna believe that in a heartbeat."

"Well prove me wrong!" Desmond looked pleadingly at William. "C'mon, Dad. I know I didn't kill Lucy. I _know_ it was someone else!"

William frowned at him.

"C'mon, Dad!"

"...If what you're suggesting is true," William said slowly, "then I am not your dad."

"Bill?" Shaun was agape. "Are you fucking believing this 'alternate reality' shite?"

"It's been postulated as possible."

"But how can you prove it?" Alexis demanded. "How can you _prove_ you're not the same Desmond we know?"

Desmond scratched his head. "I... Maybe I have different DNA, or something."

Shaun snorted. "That doesn't make any sense, why would-"

"Well fucking nothing else has made any sense so far either!" Desmond retorted. Then he exhaled, shoulders falling. "Just- try scanning me with the Animus, or something. Please." 

William shook his head. "If only we had the time to spend on that." He looked up the stairs of the little room they were in. "We can't just hide out down here forever, there are urgent tasks. And one more task in particular, thanks to... the other you," he said, still with half-skepticism in his voice.

"Uuhh, what?"

"He means burying Lucy," Shaun grumbled half-into his hand.

"Oh right, shit." Desmond looked down at the floor. His stomach felt like a mass of squirming tentacles, and bile started to rise in his throat again.

 

* * *

 

Lydia brought him a wig.

It was long, curly, and reddish-blonde. Desmond looked at it with distaste. "Why do I needa get disguised?"

"You will draw too much attention."

"What, because I'm pregnant?" He snorted. "You guys have magic spells and dragons, but you can't deal with one lousy pregnant man?"

"When that man is the spitting image of the Last Dragonborn, the most famed hero of the land, and people follow his every activity," she said evenly, "it will cause a commotion."

"Ah, so you're worried the paparazzi are gonna want pics for the _Tamriel Enquirer_!" He laughed and patted his belly. "Hey kiddo, hear that? Your dad's a celebrity."

Lydia remained serious. "If people see the Dragonborn with child, and if then you return to your own world and are replaced with the rightful Dragonborn, who is not with child... there will be confusion. Possibly even anger."

"Oh, they're antsing for me to produce an heir to the throne, huh?"

She shook the wig at him. "Just put it on so that we may go."

Desmond sighed and put it on. It itched his scalp something terrible and he took it off as soon as they got in the carriage headed to Winterhold. "I reeeeally hope your wizard guys can get me back home. It'll kill me if I don't find out my kid's other parent."

At first Lydia appeared not to hear him, but then she turned from the window and gave him a soft look of disbelief. "You do not know whose babe you carry?"

"Nnnope. It is a mystery."

"Oh....Perhaps the mages can assist you in that regard as well."

Desmond was irritated again suddenly, and smacked his hand on the carriage seat. "I was super close to finding out back in my home universe! Just get me back there and I'll be happy!"

Lydia frowned severely at him. "My Tha-" she began, then corrected herself to "Desmond. The mages will do their best. But please understand: there are no guarantees, even with magic."

"Fuck," Desmond commented, smacking his hand over his face. He could just see himself now, laboring in candlelight on some filthy straw mattress, with no antiseptics and some fuckin' weirdo shaman poking between his legs instead of the familiar Stacey.

The carriage rolled bumpily over the road for some time. Then the carriage jolted, and he straight-up fell out of his seat, curling his arms automatically forward to protect his belly. "Ugh! What the hell?! Why'd we stop?"

"Whazza doing in my way, skeever-brain?" the carriage driver barked out.

"Quiet, you." This was a new and unfamiliar voice, a rich and regal-sounding voice. "I wish to speak to Desmond."

Desmond sat up just in time to see the carriage door swing open. A tall and imposing man with dark wild hair like charred wood and eyes like expensive sapphire looked down on him as he clumsily got back into his seat. "Wh-who are-"

"I am known as Anubis."

"Um, okay." The baby knocked a fist against Desmond's innards. Desmond rubbed at the spot. "What do you wa-"

"I am aware of your situations." Anubis had a noticeable accent, almost like Altaïr's. "Remain calm. You have traveled due to an... unfortunate mishap."

Desmond blinked. "What in the _what_? You _know_ why I got sent here?"

"T'was my own doing," Anubis said bluntly, and continued on before Desmond could get a word in. "Juno had to be stopped. In the process, your timelines unraveled." He put a strong hand on Desmond's shoulder and again told him, "Remain calm."

The touch comforted Desmond. That was unexpected and odd. He looked from Anubis' hand to his face. "Do I know you from somewhere?" he asked slowly.

Anubis smiled, a sort of pride coming off his lightly-bearded visage. "I know another incarnation of your soul quite well." He trailed his hand down Desmond's tunic, fingertip tracing to the crest of his belly. "Quite well indeed," he said, low and deep.

Lydia inserted herself between them in another moment. "What is it you want with him?" she asked sharply, hand ready on the dagger at her hip.

Anubis drew himself up taller (which was an impressive feat) and said, "Merely to place him and the others back in their rightful settings.... Though the upset did give me much amusement." He gave a sly half-grin. 

Desmond got to his feet, eyes gleaming. "You can send me back home? Safe and sound?"

"Safe and sound, yes," Anubis affirmed. "You back to the forest of Vermont, and all the others likewise to their homes."

"The others? What others?"

"Oh, there are many. I shan't bore you to death listing them all." Anubis drew out from his robe [a shining golden scepter.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Was-sceptre) A crystalline gem embedded in the scepter's head gleamed from the sun. The refractions of light threw off small images Desmond could only barely catch for a fraction of a second each, glimpses of people that seemed half-familiar.

Anubis took two paces backward. "Do not look too closely. Merely stand still and allow me to work."

Desmond tore his gaze from the gem. "A-all right. Swap us back, then."

"Wait, Desmond!" Lydia said, touching his arm to pull his attention. "You don't even know who this is."

He snapped back "I don't know who _anyone_ is in this world, okay? And he knows my name, he knows I came from Vermont, and I- I feel I can trust him," he finished, more softly.

Lydia gave Anubis a wary glance. "I am sworn to protect my Thane, and Desmond is the closest thing to my Thane at the moment," she said to him sternly.

"I swear in the name of my mother that I intend no harm to him or any of his fellows," Anubis answered solemnly. "Your own Desmond shall be returned to you once my task is complete."

Desmond bounced on his heels. "Good, good, can we get on with it? Sure, it's been a _real_ barrel of fun hanging out here in Skyran-"

"Sky _rim_."

"Skyrim, okay, but no offence, I want to go home. I don't want to be here anymore."

"As you wish." Anubis raised the scepter and a pale light began to shine from it, crackling with potential.

Lydia exhaled. "May the Nine guide you, Desmond of another world," she said, making a solemn hand gesture across her chest.

The scepter radiated brilliant yellow-

The crackling became more audible-

Desmond closed his eyes against a sudden brightness-

His stomach roiled with a small flurry of kicks-

He could no longer feel the ground under his feet-

Snatches of speech echoed in his ears-

\---and then suddenly suddenly it was all gone and he was on his back in a bed.

"Orghug," he said, an involuntary grunting response to seven months of baby weighing down on him. He sat up as quickly as he could to lessen the pressure on his spine, and rubbed at his back with one hand and at his belly with the other. "God, calm down." Kiddo was still kicking up a storm; apparently he didn't enjoy shifting between universes.

Desmond noted with pleasure that he was no longer in the tunic-robe thing, but in a pair of baggy boxers instead. He breathed deeply and finally opened his eyes.

Things were blurry-grainy for a moment, but when his surroundings came into focus, it kinda looked like a more grungy version of the hideout from the second game.

Desmond blinked and muttered to himself, "What the fuck, 'the second game', what does that mean, why did I think that."

He didn't have time to ponder this further, though, because something rustled a stack of papers on the floor and the sound made him tense into a defensive pose, arm raised to ready a blade he didn't actually have on him.

"Well fuck, I was gonna surprise you with a good morning kiss," said a voice out of nowhere, with laughter bubbling underneath.

What with the myriad wild things he'd seen in the past year, Desmond would've thought he had no more capacity for surprise.

Oh but that turned out not true. Because he was _quite_ fucking surprised to see a vague shimmer in the air turn into bluish translucent blocks and then into a young man who looked much like himself, with matching deep beige skin and swirling arm tattoo even.

The man suddenly noticed one big difference between them, though, and his flirty-face became perplexed instead. "Holy shit, dude, what happened? You look _pregnant_ or something."

Desmond couldn't think past saying, "You were _invisible_ or something!"

"Yeah that's my thing, one of my many things, Des," the man said, scoffing like that was a well-known fact of life. "I've had video for a while, yo, but _this_ -" he stepped one step closer and reached toward Desmond's belly- "this wasn't here last night!"

Desmond jerked away and growled an exasperated sigh to himself. "Fuckin' Anubis fucked it up again, shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [character profile for the OC Anubis, used by permission of his creator](https://egyptiandeathgod.tumblr.com/Basics%20profile)


	9. mendokusai

"Where am I?"

"Duh, it's my apartment," the familiar-looking stranger said, then fired back a question of his own. "What's up with your gut?"

"Well you were right with the first guess: I'm pregnant."

"Really, no shit?" The stranger moved in nimbly and was successful this time at touching Desmond's belly.

Desmond decided to allow this for now. "Yes, it's weird as fuck, I know." The baby was still agitated from the shift and moving noticeably.

"Oh damn." The stranger giggled. "Is it... mine?"

"Guy, I don't even know who the fresh fuck you are."

The stranger rubbed his hand over Desmond's belly, perhaps trying to soothe the child. "Well I know _you_ : my BF Desmond Miles."

"Hooo my god." Desmond exhaled. "So this is the universe where I'm gay."

"Bi," the stranger said, pulling his hand back to adjust his red beanie over flyaway hair.

"Wait don't leave," Desmond said quickly, "I need help getting back home!"

The stranger snorted. "I mean bi _sexual_. And what do ya mean 'getting back home'?"

"Fuck, okay, I'm from a different universe. No, just hear me out," Desmond said as the stranger looked like he wanted to interrupt. "There's multiple Desmonds across the space-time continuüm, and apparently some guy Anubis... did something, and switched us around."

The stranger blinked, absorbing this.

"In my home universe I'm an Assassin, and there's this other one where I fight dragons. Aaand now this one here-" Desmond gestured at the stranger- "where apparently I'm dating a body double of myself who can turn invisible."

"...Mm, all right." The stranger chuckled. "Sounds like something out of a sci-fi, but then again I'm a Conduit, so okay, I'll roll with it."

"Conduit?"

"The invisibility thing, and a whole lot else besides. For example," he stuck his hand out towards a neon peace sign on the wall above the bed.

Desmond's jaw dropped as the electric blue gas was siphoned out and into the stranger's fingertips. "O- okay. Consider my mind even more blown than it was before."

"Lemme formally welcome you to this 'verse, Alternate-Desmond. Name's Delsin Rowe." They shook hands, Desmond a little cautiously since it was the same hand that had absorbed the neon. "Let's figure this shit out so you can get back home to whoever it is whose kid you're having. I'm guessing Anubis is one of those Isu?"

"Uh." Desmond paused. "Fuck. I didn't think to ask 'im. I guess maybe."

Delsin lifted a shoulder. "I mean, ancient god, fits their name scheme, right?

"Yeah, yeah. And now that I consider it, he had a Piece of Eden," Desmond said, recalling the glowing scepter.

Delsin appeared to know the concept of P.O.E. already, because he simply asked "Which one?"

"Nothing I recognized."

Delsin stood up and took his phone out of a pocket. "Lemme touch base with Gene and Shaun. Them two have the in-depth knowledge base about those things."

 

* * *

 

I woke up in the passenger seat of a truck rumbling along the road and gasped, looking around for any signs of what fuckin' universe I was in this time.

Dad was there, in the driver's seat, and the moment he looked over at me he slammed the brakes hard. "What just happened?" he demanded, like he was interrogating a murder suspect.

"I- I'm shifting universes," I said once I had control of my stumbling tongue.

"Shifting- _What?_ Who are you?!"

"I'm Desmond, god, don't you remember your own son?!"

He leaned across the armrest to peer at me more closely, inspecting the poor fit of my clothes (they felt a couple sizes too small).

"You do have a son, right?" I said weakly. "Don't tell me this is some 'verse where I was never born or you have a daughter instead or something?"

Dad(?) frowned at my tattoo and looked back up to my eyes. "What trickery is this?"

"It's some Precursor crap, sorry I don't know the whole details. You're William Miles, right?"

He nodded warily.

"Well I'm the son of William Miles. I'm Desmond Miles."

He looked me over again, with close scrutiny on my hair and face.

I felt as if my couple-week-old stubble was probably counting against me, but fuck, shaving had gotten knocked a ways down the priority list, what with the world about to end and all.

At last he pulled away from examining me and let out an accepting sigh as he turned the truck off. "My son... is not as old as you are."

"Well that explains why everything's so tight." I pulled at the edge of the shirt that belonged to Younger-Desmond. "Apparently my clothes don't shift with me."

"Where is my son?" Dad- no, William I guess is more accurate- asked.

"...In some other universe. I'm sorry." I had a brief mental image of that younger Desmond finding himself in the Temple with Shaun, Rebecca, and my father, having no idea what he was in the middle of.

"Other universe," William said at half volume, turning to gaze out the window.

"Yeah, uh, apparently there's several of 'em." I forced a tiny laugh. "Before I got here, I was just in one where I live in France; what's up with that?"

William exhaled, his posture deflating a bit. "So. What do we do?" he asked, looking back at me.

"To get me back home? I honestly don't know." I forced a laugh again. "Maybe if we just wait long enough I'll cycle through all the possible 'verses and end up back at mine."

"That could be quite a wait," William said. "Perhaps an infinite wait, for an infinite number of universes."

"Well I don't know what else we can do, Dad! I don't even know what to do to fix things back in my world; you expect me to have a solution for this multi-world shit?"

"Watch your language."

"You're not my dad," I retorted.

"You did call me 'Dad' just now."

"Ugh, fuck."

"Language!"

"Y'know, my actual dad in my home 'verse is fine with me swearing."

"Is he now?"

"Yeah." I crossed my arms and looked out the window. "He's got other weird issues with me, but not the swearing. Guess he wants to pick his battles."

I heard William exhale again. Then the truck engine started back up. "We'll have to get you clothes that fit properly."

I shrugged, as much as I could manage in the tight tee. "I might not be here that long, but thanks, I'd appreciate it."

"You could," William said slowly, "borrow some of Kaczmarek's?"

I pivoted back to stare at him. "Kaczmarek's?"

"A... friend of my son. He's about your size."

"He's my size and _he's alive?!?_ "

 

* * *

 

Alex had taken The-Desmond-That-Wasn't-His-Husband all around the den and explained the situation to every single person available. Predictably, no-one had a clue as to how they might be able to reverse the switch.

"Fuuuuck," Alex growled, "fuck fuck _fuck_!" On the last syllable he threw their apartment door open violently. The resulting _slam_ of handle against wall upset Deon, who began to wail in Desmond's arms.

"Jesus, buddy, you're making the kid cry!"

" _I'm sorry_ ," Alex said intensely through gritted teeth. "It's... devastating, having him gone." He clomped across the apartment and grabbed something off the couch. "Ohhh." It was a hooded jacket, dingy-white like it had been through rather a lot in life, with a splash of red for the inner lining. Alex pressed the hoodie to his face and breathed in, making a contented hum.

Deon continued to cry and wave tiny clenched hands. Desmond rocked him and looked around for a toy or something. "I uh, really don't know how to do kids."

Alex had now wrapped the hoodie all around himself, though it was too large and looked rather silly, like he himself was a baby being swaddled. He glared at Desmond.

"C'mon, he's _your_ kid."

Alex huffed and took Deon off his hands. The baby became noticeably calmer within seconds, unclenching and reaching out to bat at a tie-string of the hoodie.

"I think he can tell you're wrong," Alex said with a thin smile. "He can tell you're not family."

"Well excuse me for getting booted out of my own spacetime and into yours," Desmond said, crossing his arms. "I don't even feel right here. I'm starting to get a headache. God." He leaned back, suddenly dizzy. Pinpoint lights were flashing in his vision. "C-can we go back to that doctor? I think- uurg-"

And he vanished before Alex's eyes.

Well. Not exactly vanished.

More precisely, he turned into a raging ball of photons, which dashed in a blurry line down the hall and through the glass door to the balcony.

Alex's eyes twitched. "What the shit."

Desmond reappeared on the balcony, with some of the light lingering in a halo around him.

Alex went over and opened the door. "Are you my husband now?"

Desmond turned to him, wide-eyed at this unfamiliar man and child. "Excuse me?"

Alex glanced down to confirm. "Hm. No. Your arm's not burnt."

"Oh it is burnt, a little." Desmond lifted the arm and pushed back his sleeve. "You can't really tell unless you look close, though. The worst of the scarring went away once I turned Conduit."

" _What_."

 

* * *

 

Somewhere outside normal space and time, Anubis watched all these scenes unfold through the viewgem on his sceptre.

"It appears the timelines have now fractured and frayed even more than before. How bothersome." 


	10. what if your world was a video game in another world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> help, why is this the easiest thing to make updates on

Outside the truck, it was forested and hilly. "Where are we?" I asked William.

He glanced at me with a half-humorous expression. "Did you grow up somewhere else, in your timeline?"

I blinked and looked out again, not quite believing it. "The Farm?"

"Yes, the Farm." He pulled the truck up into a driveway by a house in the shadow of a big sprawling oak tree. "So this timeline isn't all that different."

I shrugged and got out. "How old's your Desmond?" I asked as we walked up the stone path toward the house.

"Twenty-one, as of last month." He looked at me again. "And yourself?"

"Twenty-five." I kicked a loose stone out of my way. "I, uh... left at sixteen. Ran away, actually." I gave an awkward little smile. "Guess your Desmond didn't."

William stopped walking. I turned around to look at him, and saw his hands twitch. His face was suddenly tense and grim.

My smile was gone now. "Uh, Da... Mentor?" I said, unsure if he'd be okay with a first-name address.

"I... wasn't accepting in your timeline," he said heavily. He stepped closer and put his hands on my shoulders. "I'm sorry."

"Uh-"

"Yes, _he's_ not _me_ , but still. I'm sorry." He patted my shoulder solemnly. "He doesn't deserve to call himself an Assassin if he can't accept people's identities."

"Um, well actually," I said, "it was the Assassin thing, not the identity thing, that made me wanna run away. Hell, I didn't even realize I was bi until years after leaving," I added with a quiet nervous chuckle.

William looked at me curiously again. His mouth opened like he was going to say something, but he wasn't sure what.

Just then the door of the house opened. "Is something up? He giving you a hard time, Desmond?"

I leaned to one side to see who was speaking. It was so surreal, seeing him here, in the flesh, not the cold artificial version from Animus Island. Here his hair was blonder- kind of a dirty blonde, but quite distinct from the golden brown color it had seemed before. And he seemed more alive, practically shining in his crisp white shirt.

"Clay," I breathed.

"Uh-huh. You need anything?"

William let go of me and approached Clay. "I'm sorry, we have a situation. You see, Desmond is-" He gestured back at me. "This Desmond is not our Desmond."

Clay gave him a strange look. "What do you mean, sir?"

"He's... from another timeline."

"Timeline, or universe," I said, not certain which word was more correct.

Clay looked to me and then back at William. "This isn't a joke?"

"This isn't a joke."

I stepped up to the door. "Yeah, see, look how I don't even fit into twenty-one-year-old Desmond's clothes."

Clay looked me up and down like William had upon my arrival. "Ohh. Yyyeah, you do not fit those." He chuckled. "Also, you didn't have that beard when you left this morning."

I touched my face reflexively.

 

* * *

 

"Yo guys," Delsin called into the clutter-filled basement, "need some help here."

Two bespectacled skinny guys- a taller one Desmond recognized as Shaun, and a shorter one he didn't recognize- turned from their screens and started to respond but were apparently struck dumb by the sight of Desmond's belly. The shorter one adjusted his glasses and said, "Woah."

"Okay, hold your questions, let's get this over with," Desmond said, tugging the hem of his shirt down. (Well really it wasn't "his" shirt, but a shirt belonging to the Desmond of this world.) "Yeah I'm pregnant, don't ask how because it's too long of a story, and I'm not the Desmond you guys know that's dating this guy," here he pointed a thumb at Delsin, "because I'm a different Desmond from another universe, a universe where I don't even know him and I'm straight."

"Yup, that about covers it," Delsin said. "So, Gene, Shaun, you two ever heard of a Piece of Eden that moves people between parallel universes?"

The short guy (Gene, Desmond figured, though if it turned out that was this verse's "Shaun" and guy-who-looked-like-Shaun was actually "Gene", he wouldn't be too surprised) turned to his tri-monitor setup and typed something in the command line, popping up a window in the central screen.

"It looks like a kinda golden staff, if that helps," Desmond said.

"Staff of Eden?" Shaun interjected. "There's no documented evidence that-"

"Like the Pope had? No way, not as big as those." Desmond held his hands apart from his head to his mid-thigh. "Maybe this long, or a bit more."

Gene arrowed his way through a series of images on the central screen. Some were grainy old photographs and others were vague sketches. "Anything else you can tell us? I never heard of a Piece with that capability."

"Wielded by a bro calling himself Anubis, right?" Delsin said, looking to Desmond.

"Yeah. I'm like 95% sure he's First Civ," Desmond said.

"Anubis, right, so he ruled in ancient Egypt," Shaun said, reaching over to a crowded bookshelf and pulling out one in particular. He flicked through the pages far too fast for Desmond to believe he was actually reading them properly. "Eugene, try the Sceptre of Aset."

Gene (or was it actually Eugene?) keyed "ASET" into a search box, which brought up a photo of [an ancient wall painting.](http://i.imgur.com/c7PhjeX.png)

"Oh, um, yeah it was kinda like that, but bigger." Desmond rubbed at a cramp in his back. "And it had a big-ass gem on top too."

"You okay?" Delsin asked, putting a hand very lightly on his shoulder. "You look like you're in pain."

Desmond sighed. "I got cramps, it's fine. Big shocker, but being pregnant isn't entirely a walk in the park."

"Cramps? Ohh." Delsin flashed into a beam of blue light, traveling across the room and bringing back a chair. "Here, siddown."

Desmond batted away Delsin's helping hand. "Jesus, I'm not in labor, I'm only like seven months along, calm your tits."

"This it, perhaps?" Shaun held up another book, the pages old and tinged yellowy-brown. A simple line drawing sketched out the rough likeness of a shaft of metal, gently curved at the bottom tip, with a dog's head near the top and a gem atop that.

"Yeah, yeah! That's the exact thing!" Desmond said with a vigorous nod.

"Sceptre of Was," Shaun said, pulling the book back and rubbing his chin. "Not in our database yet, as we never before had anything concrete that it was a P.O.E.. But Anubis was indeed said to have multiple forms: a canine beast, a man with a canine head, and on rare occasions fully humanoid."

Eugene's eyes were wide and awestruck. "So maybe he changed forms using his scepter to tap into the quantum multiverse!"

Shaun nodded. "My precise line of thought, yes."

Eugene hit a key combo and started typing a new database entry.

SCEPTER OF WASS, POWERS: QUAN

"Only one S in Was, Eugene," Shaun said with a sigh, "and you've misspelled 'sceptre' too, but that's bloody America's way, isn't it."

Eugene grumbled and changed the spelling on both words. "So where was it when you saw it, Des?", he asked as he continued typing.

"Uh. In Anubis' hands, in a place called Skyrim."

Eugene stopped typing and turned his chair slowly to stare at Desmond again. "Skyrim?"

"Yeah. Problem?"

"Desmond," Delsin said with a weird tilt to his voice, "Skyrim is a video game."

Desmond slumped into the chair Delsin had offered previously. "Well hey, Assassins and Templars are a video game too, thanks to fuckin' Abstergo Entertainment. You sayin' it can't be based on a real thing?"

"It seems... really unlikely," Eugene said with a note of hesitation, like he was trying not to offend.

"I was _there_ , okay?"

"Describe 'there'?" Shaun asked.

Desmond rubbed his head, which was now hurting instead of his back. "Like old medieval fantasy stuff, people wearing robes, magic spells, wizards'n'shit."

"Any dragons?" Eugene offered.

"Well, I didn't personally _see_ the dragons, I was barely there more'n an hour, but the lady did mention I'd have to fight 'em."

With a laugh Delsin leant closer. "Wait, not only were you in Skyrim, but you were in Skyrim and you were the _player character?_ "

Desmond rolled his shoulders in an angry shrug. "I'm not fucking making this up. Please can we just get to finding the sceptre and _ufff-_ " He grimaced, headache becoming stronger.

Delsin looked worried again. "Seriously, are you okay dude?"

"Shitt-" Desmond bent forward, grabbing the side of his stomach. "Stop kicking, kid, what's your pro- oh. Oh shit." He looked through fading vision at the other three in the room. "I think I'm about to-"

"Aw hell," Delsin said, whipping out his phone to speed-dial the Assassin's doctor. "Okay, just stay calm, breathe, we gotcha."

"No, I'm- shit-" Desmond shivered and disappeared.

 

* * *

 

"Desmond?" William knocked on the bathroom door again, and again got no response. He looked over to Clay. "It can't take _that_ long to change clothes."

Clay shrugged. "Maybe he's shaving?" he speculated.

William put his ear to the door. "I thought I heard moaning. Did you hear moaning?"

"...Maybe he's on the toilet?"

At that, William pulled away from the door and sat beside Clay on the couch to wait some more.

Clay felt his shirt pocket for a pack of smokes, then realized it wasn't there and put his hand back down.

"I do hope we can get our Desmond back," William said after another few moments.

"Yeah," Clay agreed. "But don't try and ask me how. I studied engineering, not multiverse hyperjumping."

There was another sound from the bathroom: a clear groan this time. And then a stage-whispered "God dammit."

"Desmond?" William got up again. "Is there a problem? Do the clothes not fit you?"

A bitter laugh came through the door. "Fuckin' not in this condition, they won't." There was a quick rustling. "Okay, whatever works." He opened the door, wearing an unfastened windbreaker and a towel tied 'round his hips under his ample stomach.

Clay blinked a couple times. William took a step back and made an unsteady choking noise.

"Okay, don't waste time being flabbergasted," Desmond said. "We need to find the Sceptre of Was."


	11. complexities multiply

"I swear it's not mine," Clay said quickly to William, holding up his hands and cracking a laugh.

Desmond maintained a serious face. "Yeah, yeah, pregnant man equals hilarious, but c'mon guys, get with the program. Sceptre of Was: you know anything about it? That's the key to all this universe shifting."

"I... I've never heard of this sceptre," William managed, still a little thrown off by the sight before him.

"How 'bout a First Civ guy called Anubis?"

William thought a moment, brow furrowed. "A son of Isis."

Desmond shrugged. "I don't give a shit about his family. Just need that Scepter to get me back home properly." He adjusted his towel. "Hopefully soon."

 

* * *

 

"Delsin? Hello?"

"Uhh," Delsin said into the phone.

"Do you need something?"

"Um. Maybe not anymore," he said confusedly, staring at the different Desmond before him. This Desmond looked way less pregnant. "I'll call ya back." He hung up on the doctor and slid the phone back into his pocket. "So... you aren't my boyfriend either," he said to the new Desmond.

"How can you tell?" Shaun asked.

Delsin shrugged. "Just kinda a sense I'm getting."

The new Desmond nodded warily. "Yeah, I- I'm spoken for."

"Okay, so we still gotta fix this universe mixup thing."

"You know anything about a Scepter of Was?" Eugene asked Desmond. "Or a Precursor called Anubis?"

Desmond blinked. "Um, this is a hell of a name coincidence, but Anubis is my mate."

"Mate?!" Shaun repeated in almost a screech.

"You mean like 'friend', or like..." Eugene made a loopy gesture with one hand.

"Like, married," Desmond said with a small hot-cheeked smile.

Delsin took off his beanie and rubbed at his head. "Man I didn't think Precursors were still _around_ , let alone them being into humans."

Desmond held a hand up. "I said it was a coincidence! My Anubis is a _dragon_ , not a Precursor."

"Oh Christ, we're back to the Skyrim shit," Shaun said, facepalming.

 

* * *

 

If things kept up like this, Desmond was sure he would soon lose count of how many 'verses he'd visited. And it seemed each 'verse was more different than the last.

In one he was imprisoned, chained to a bed, with no-one responding to his pleas for help.

In one he found himself at a pool party with some high-schoolers who all looked bizarrely familiar, and who all called him Altaïr for some reason. There'd been an Alex there, but she- yes, _she_ \- was clearly not his husband.

In one he'd awoken standing next to a crib, but the child inside, cinnamon-haired in a seafoam green onesie, was clearly not Deon.

In one he was out on the deck of a ship in the midst of a raging storm, whereupon a bolt of lightning had struck him.

And then after that he'd found himself on a dusty dirt road with a woman who asked if he was her Thane.

And now he was here in some unknown city bustling with night-time people, cold wind nipping fiercely at his ears and nose.

Which one was real? Were they all real? The one with Alex and Deon was real for him. Or at least he was pretty sure that was his reality. All this shit was confusing enough to rival the Bleeding Effect he used to suffer from. He touched the spot on his finger where his wedding ring should have been.

Fighting back a sob, he looked at the stranger before him. "I'm from another universe."

The stranger was a man on the younger end of middle-age, with a dingy moss-green cap and a dusting of scruffy beard. He made no sound, just looked thoughtfully at his smartphone.

"I know it sounds ludicrous, but I really am from another universe," Desmond said. "I need to get back to my own life, back to Alex and Deon." Saying their names kept them more firmly in his mind.

"Another universe," the man said, gaze going smoothly from his phone to Desmond and then back down.

"I'm not crazy."

"Mm." The man's face flickered with an infinitesimal smile. "Well it would explain how you're not in CTOS."

"In the what?"

"Hm. It'd explain not knowing what CTOS is, too."

 

* * *

 

I found myself in another unfamiliar place. It smelled very earthen, and clouds of dust wafted everywhere. I had the feeling it was probably underground. A quick check in Eagle Vision showed I was surrounded by enemies, so I ducked behind a large piece of machinery.

Someone close by, on the other side of the machine, was talking. "But we can now find the Koh-i-noor?"

"Spain," said a strong voice from the machine, and I nearly fucking lost it because I didn't expect the machine to be joining in the conversation. "It was last seen in Spain. What once was, shall soon be again."

The machine's voice sent shivers up my spine like nothing else. I looked around to see where else I might hide that wasn't right next to it. Or next to _them_ , I guess, if the machine was a person.

I saw, amongst the little crowd of red-outlined figures, a differently-colored one. Still sort of in the red spectrum, but a noticeably different shade. More pinkish-orange-golden, actually. They were smaller than the rest; child-size, though I couldn't pin down their age. Somewhere between ten and twenty years old? No, couldn't be close to twenty. Definitely younger than me. Based on body size alone, maybe around eight? But with an oddly serene, mature face, that seemed very adult-like.

"My lady Juno, the boy should be in a cage," someone said suddenly. "He is his father's son, prone to betrayal and-"

"Doubt me not, Violet," said the machine. (I shivered again.) "The boy has purpose, a cog who is happy as part of the machine. A machine which will carve mountains into idols."

That didn't sound good to me at all. I didn't know what the hell was going on in this universe, but I knew I wanted to save that kid.


End file.
